


Bad Romance

by fictionalaspect



Category: Bandom
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-12
Updated: 2010-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/fictionalaspect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon tells Spencer his theory about the uselessness of punch-tabs on plastic cup tops. Spencer is not impressed. "Please don't tell me that's why you're all," Spencer says, waving his hand to indicate the general partitive state of Brendon's being. Uncoalesced, maybe. It's a neat word. Brendon's maybe a little spatially dislocated right now.</p><p>"Are you saying I'm uncoalesced?" Brendon asks.</p><p>"I'm saying you're a fucking weirdo," Spencer says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Romance

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://ailleann23.livejournal.com/profile)[**ailleann23**](http://ailleann23.livejournal.com/). [](http://boweryd.livejournal.com/profile)[**boweryd**](http://boweryd.livejournal.com/) and [](http://anoneknewmoose.livejournal.com/profile)[**anoneknewmoose**](http://anoneknewmoose.livejournal.com/) remain, as ever, my partners in crime.

It wasn't like Brendon had _asked_ for it, or anything.

Ryan had just cracked a joke and Brendon had said _yeah, I wouldn't know_ because he didn't get around as much as Ryan did (and thank god he hadn't said that one out loud, because it wasn't like Ryan was--whatever. The thought felt dull, and a little mean, and so Brendon kept his mouth shut) and then they hadn't been playing in tandem any more, Brendon's chords ringing out loud and sharp and singular in the late afternoon silence.

"What--" Brendon said, looking up, and Ryan was staring at him with barely disguised fascination.

"_Never?_" Ryan said, and Brendon shook his head, because uh, no, never.

"Oh," Ryan said, and set his guitar down on the bed, climbed over it carefully and arranged his knees on either side of Brendon's lap and kissed him, full on the mouth.

\--

So, that was new.

\--

Brendon starts to think that something's up when Spencer picks him up after school. They wander around the mall and drop things in the fountains and it feels suspiciously like when Spencer's trying to take care of Ryan, except as far as Brendon's aware, he's not having a personal crisis and doesn't need Spencer's sympathy.

(Or like, maybe he is. Maybe kissing Ryan had been kind of awesome and depressing at the same time, because Brendon had been hoping against hope that he would hate it, and.

He didn't. So.)

"You're wrangling me," Brendon accuses, after Spencer suddenly develops an intense need for milkshakes. "Whatever Ryan told you, I deny everything."

"Ryan was supposed to tell me something?" Spencer says, sucking on his straw obnoxiously. Milkshake seeps out the top of the straw-hole and pools in the punch-tabs that no one ever actually uses, because who the fuck has time to poke those stupid things down? Except Brendon does it when he's bored at work, but that doesn't count.

Brendon tells Spencer his theory about the uselessness of punch-tabs on plastic cup tops. Spencer is not impressed. "Please don't tell me that's why you're all," Spencer says, waving his hand to indicate the general partitive state of Brendon's being. Uncoalesced, maybe. It's a neat word. Brendon's maybe a little spatially dislocated right now.

"Are you saying I'm uncoalesced?" Brendon asks.

"I'm saying you're a fucking weirdo," Spencer says.

\--

It makes more sense, though, when Spencer tells him they should probably just make out.

"But I," Brendon says, and then closes his mouth when he realizes he was going to say that he made out with Ryan, because it's not like Ryan has a claim on him, or anything. It's not like they're _dating_.

(He thinks.)

"It's for science," Spencer says, and shifts a little closer on the couch.

"Ryan told you," Brendon says flatly, because there is no way that Spencer just independently assumed that fact. "What the fuck, he said he wouldn't--"

"He said he helped you out a little," Spencer says. "I just, didn't know if, like. You needed more help."

"I'm not the band's charity case, thanks," Brendon says, even if he sort of does want to know how Spencer kisses, even if Spencer has nice hands and soft hair and his voice gets all throaty after he falls asleep on the couch during their late-night movie marathons.

"You're really not," Spencer says, and kisses Brendon. Brendon has a split second of indecision where his pride wars with his libido, and then Brendon tells his pride to go fuck itself. Spencer tugs him up and over, until Brendon's basically straddling him, and it's--good.

It's really, really good.

\--

So Brendon's gone from super-virgin, okay, he's gone from super-virgin to hooking up with one-half of his band in the space of a week and it's a little weird but mostly Brendon just finds himself swaggering at odd moments. He shouldn't be swaggering because it's not like it happened because of his smooth moves, or anything, but he still feels like kind of a badass. He is closer to getting laid than he has ever been before in his life, which is admittedly not that close, but Brendon's pretty sure Spencer got hard when they were making out, and that's something.

(Brendon's just conveniently overlooking the fact that everyone in his band is a dude. Happens to people all the time, right? Right.)

Or at least, he's feeling mildly swagger-y and self-intoxicated until he's running late for practice and the door is cracked open just a bit, closed but not shut, and Brendon pushes it open without thinking. Spencer's got his stool kicked up against the dry-wall, legs open and Ryan on top of them, feet firmly placed to keep both of them balanced. Ryan's arms are around Spencer's neck and Spencer has one hand in Ryan's back pocket and oh, they've done this before, Brendon can tell. Ryan rolls his hips a little and Spencer pulls him back in, easy, practiced, and they're still kissing, they've been kissing this whole time and Brendon just can't fucking deal, because what?

Brendon closes the door and walks fifty feet away and then calls in sick to band practice. But not because he's jealous. Brendon isn't jealous.

Uncoalesced, maybe.

Not jealous.

\--

"Pop quiz," Ryan says, and punctuates his sentence with the hiss of air escaping from his can of Mountain Dew. He's leaning against the doorway for no apparent reason. "Who's a better kisser, me or Spencer?"

Brendon chokes on his Sprite.

"Um," Brendon says, because Spencer is like, right there, grabbing chips from the cupboard in the kitchen and there's no way that Brendon can answer that fucking question without him hearing. Not that he can answer it anyway. "Dude," Brendon says, and Spencer comes back and drops a bag of chips in Brendon's lap and Ryan turns to him and says "Brendon won't tell me which one of us is a better kisser," like he's asking Spencer about the weather, or something.

"Ryan's pretty good," Spencer says, thoughtfully, to Brendon.

Brendon's entirely cornered. And he's not quite sure what to do because on the one hand -- making out with Ryan was pretty awesome. Ryan's kind of a biter, and Brendon didn't really know that could be hot, but he totally had a hickey the next day and he kept touching it all day and thinking about how good it felt and getting all distracted at school and then feeling really weird about it because Ryan hadn't acted like it was a big deal, the two of them, but it sort of was.

But it had been good with Spencer, too, Spencer with his soft stomach and strong thighs and hands that stayed at Brendon's waist, thumbs smoothing over his hipbones. It wasn't that Spencer was much bigger than him, not really, but it was really fucking hot the way he just sort of placed Brendon where he wanted him and kept him there.

So Brendon's kind of torn.

"I don't know?" Brendon says, and it comes out as a question. Spencer's face falls a little, and Ryan frowns.

"You don't know, you mean, like, you... didn't like it?" Spencer presses. He looks unreasonably disappointed by this for someone who, as far as Brendon can tell, gets a lot of ass from his best friend. Brendon's not sure why Spencer is so invested in his sexual exploration, or whatever.

"No!" Brendon says, and then realizes he's talking really loudly at the same time that Ryan shushes him. "No, I mean, it was good, with both of you, I," Brendon says, and then rapidly loses steam. "But whatever," Brendon says. "Because you're all--" he motions between them, somehow unwilling to say the word "together" for no apparent reason--"and shit."

"Nah," Ryan says, at the same time that Spencer says "Yeah." They both stop and look at each other for a second, and Brendon still kind of wishes he could do that with someone, just raise an eyebrow and have them know what the hell he's thinking about without him ever having to open his mouth.

"What Ryan meant," Spencer continues, after they've obviously settled... whatever it is was they had to settle, "is that it's not like, a thing."

"It's not a thing?" Brendon says.

"It's just friend stuff," Ryan says, blithely. "You know."

"Oh, totally," Brendon says. He doesn't know at all.

"We just didn't know if you wanted to get in on that," Spencer says easily, like he's got all the time in the world. Brendon's still stuck on the friend thing, because that's---yeah. Okay.

Brendon's okay. He can do this.

Ryan looks over at Spencer one more time, and then he gets up and comes over to the couch, moving slowly with one hand out, like he's trying to be non-threatening. When he sits, that hand lands on Brendon's knee. "Yeah?" Ryan says, and Brendon wants to ask if this is like, a some-other-time-thing or a _right-now_ thing but what comes out is--

"Wait, all of us?"

"Yeah. Or, just one of us, if that's what you want. Whatever you want," Spencer says, still unconcerned, and Ryan gives him a dirty look.

"Sure, yeah, no--" Brendon says quickly, because hey, there's enough of him to go around, or something, and Ryan gets pissy when he feels like he's being ignored. "Whatever you guys do, I mean, I'm good with that--" Brendon says, but he's interrupted by Ryan kissing him, sharp and sudden. So, okay. They're doing this right now, then.

At first it's just a tangle of limbs. Brendon very nearly knees Spencer in the balls and Ryan's legs are too long but they get it, somehow, and Brendon's in the middle, Ryan's hands in his hair, Spencer sucking a slow bruise into the skin on the back of Brendon's neck. He scrapes his teeth over the ridges of Brendon's spine and Brendon feels shivery and warm and all over.

He doesn't realize Ryan's pulling away until suddenly they're not kissing anymore. Brendon feels a split second of mostly unwarranted panic but Ryan just pulls back and licks his lips and then Brendon feels a hand on his chin, tugging him in towards Spencer. He has to move his whole body to turn into it, but it's worth it. Spencer kisses slower than Ryan does, more thorough, like he's learning every inch of Brendon and would rather not rush the process. Brendon feels hot all over, overstimulated; there's almost too much going on and he's having trouble processing it all. All three of them are pressed close on the couch, and Brendon's warm and surrounded.

When Spencer finally pulls back to breathe, Ryan's right there again, catching Brendon's mouth with his own, biting down hard on Brendon's lower lip and pushing him back into Spencer. Spencer has a hand on Brendon's hip and one hand in Ryan's hair; he's scratching at the base of Ryan's skull and Ryan sort of purrs a little into Brendon's mouth and Brendon thinks again about how many times they must have done this, sleepovers and late nights and camping out in the backyard, Spencer's hand over Ryan's mouth so they'd stay quiet. Brendon pulls away, breathing hard.

"I want," Brendon says, and it's sort of hard to get the words out, but he manages. "I want to see, both of you, again--"

"Mmm," Spencer says, and doesn't argue, and then they're kissing, right over Brendon's shoulder, close enough to touch. Ryan steadies himself with a hand on Spencer's bicep and Brendon thinks _holy shit_.

Ryan pulls away after, bites at Spencer's lower lip playfully, little kitten nips before turning back to Brendon. Brendon's mostly gotten up the courage to put his hands on Ryan's waist when Ryan mumbles "y'wanna fuck?" into his mouth, breathy and eager, one hand trailing down to squeeze at Brendon's dick. Spencer has one hand covering Brendon's stomach, fingers spread, and he chooses that moment to pull Brendon back against him, to grind his dick into Brendon's ass and bite down hard on the curve of his shoulder and Brendon jerks in surprise and comes in his jeans.

Spencer laughs for probably five minutes straight.

"Maybe later," Brendon says, blushing.

\--

They don't fuck later, but Brendon watches Ryan go down, down, down, watches his eyelashes flutter and his jaw work as he takes Spencer in as deep as he can go. Ryan pats Spencer's thigh consolingly when he pulls off for a minute to breathe, and Ryan's mouth tastes like salt under Brendon's tongue. Spencer whines and Brendon watches as Ryan's rhythm gets sloppy and rough, watches the way Spencer's stomach tenses and his hips buck up to meet Ryan's mouth.

"I give really good head," Ryan tells him after, smugly, licking away a trail of come from the corner of his mouth. From behind them, Spencer makes a weak noise of agreement.

"I don't," Brendon says, feeling like honesty is the best policy, here. "But I'm a fast learner."

"Well then," Ryan says, and pops the button on his tight-ass girl jeans.

\--

Stupid Ryan Ross and his gigantic fucking dick. Brendon's jaw is going to hurt for _days_.

\--

"I am actually interested in fucking you," Ryan says, two weeks later, during a lull in band practice when it's just the two of them and Brent and Spencer have run off to get supplies.

"Oh," Brendon says, choking and coughing on his Red Bull. He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and tries to focus.

"I just wanted you to know," Ryan says. He's tuning his guitar with an expression of intense concentration.

"Thanks for that," Brendon says. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You should," Ryan says.

\--

"But it's huge," Brendon says, popping a Twizzler in his mouth and pressing his cell phone to his ear. He's pretty sure this is hands-down the strangest conversation he's ever had at work, even if he's on break and not technically working.

"It's not that bad," Spencer says. "Shit, motherfucker, that fucking douche just killed my guy _again_."

"What if I die?" Brendon says.

"You're not going to die from Ryan sticking his dick up your ass," Spencer says. "Oh, you cocksucking son of a _bitch_." Brendon can hear more explosions in the background, and the tell-tale _ding!_ that says that Spencer's guy just got respawned.

"I might," Brendon says. "You don't know."

"I didn't die." Spencer says. "Take _that_, motherfuckers!"

"Was it good?" Brendon says, feeling his face heat, but if he's going to ask it's going to be now, when Spencer's distracted.

"Do you need me to hold your hand when he does it?" Spencer asks, and Brendon tells him to fuck off and hangs up.

\--

Brendon's opening his big, fat mouth to tell Ryan that he's maybe rethinking this whole "losing his virginity" plan when Ryan comes back downstairs and tosses him a small bottle of lube. Brendon fumbles the catch.

"I think you should fuck me," Ryan says, and oh, yeah. _Yeah_. Brendon's okay with that.

"Aw, you guys can bond," Spencer says, and Ryan leans over and flicks him in between the eyes. He's watching some terrible movie on Ryan's crappy TV and Brendon wonders if they're going to do this here and if he's going to give it up to the melodic sounds of Daryl Hannah telling him he needs to repent to save his soul.

Ryan's hips look even narrower when he's naked, and he's pale all over and his skin is really soft. Brendon feels weird, just sitting there naked with a hard-on and his dick all sticking out, but Ryan leans in and kisses him and then leans backwards, tugging Brendon on top of him. "_Oh_," Brendon says, because there's a lot of fucking skin under his hands and Ryan's rocking his hips into Brendon's, a steady, rhythmic grind. Ryan pulls away and spits in his hand and then reaches down to fist both of them, and Brendon has to tug his hand away so he doesn't blow his load all over Ryan's stomach.

"Maybe you should," Ryan says, when Brendon points this out. "Take the edge off. I'm going to be pissed if you only last ten seconds."

"Oh, fuck you," Brendon says, but he doesn't push Ryan's hand away when he swipes his thumb over the tip of Brendon's dick, and when he reaches back down Brendon throws his head back and ruts into the soft, sticky skin on Ryan's stomach and comes.

\--

Ryan's tight, and hot, and Brendon's fingers are really slippery.

It's not a great combination.

"You're doing it wrong," Spencer sighs, after the third annoyed noise from Ryan and the third harried apology from Brendon. Spencer turns off the TV and rolls over, gently shoving Brendon out from between Ryan's legs. He coats two of his long fingers with an casual, practiced motion and Brendon thinks about how all this time he'd thought Spencer was as lame as he was in the sex department. He holds Ryan's legs open, a little, and pets at him before slowly sinking in, all the way, and Brendon watches as Ryan's back arches and his mouth falls open.

"Like that," Spencer says, and starts to slowly move his finger, rubbing where Ryan's stretched around him, slowly working him up to two and then three, until Ryan's panting and shoving his ass back against Spencer's hand.

"Whoa," Brendon says, and bites his lip. He leans over and kisses Ryan, because he doesn't know what else to do, and Ryan bites at his lips and growls a little into his mouth. "C'mon, _now_," Ryan says, and Brendon swallows and nods. Spencer moves over and takes his dick out, leaning back against the arm of the fold-out couch to watch, and Brendon ignores him when Spencer asks if he needs directions. He's pretty sure he knows where his dick needs to go, thanks.

Brendon doesn't remember that much of the actual sex, only that it feels better than anything he's ever felt in his life and Ryan wraps his heels around Brendon's waist and tilts his hips up and moans. Brendon's pretty sure this is what heaven feels like, and he makes a lot of stupid noises, little "unh, unh, unh's" that keep spilling out of his mouth no matter how he tries to stop them. At some point Spencer helpfully leans over and gives Ryan a hand, and when Ryan comes it gets everywhere, all over his stomach and Brendon's stomach and his chest and Brendon's chest. It's warm and hot and slippery on Brendon's skin and Ryan clenches around him and Brendon comes harder than he ever has in his life.

"That was hot," Spencer says, when Brendon's still pressing his face into Ryan's bony shoulder and waiting for his brain to settle.

"I'm glad you approve," Ryan mumbles, and clumsily pats at Brendon's ass, like he's congratulating him for a job well done.

\--

"We should do something exciting," Ryan says, thoughtfully, and Brendon wiggles his ass helpfully because he's feeling a little exposed here and because hey, what, he's not exciting?

"Don't worry," Spencer says, and strokes one sticky finger in between Brendon's cheeks. It's really cold. "We're not going to forget about you."

"Oh, thanks," Brendon says, "that's really reassur--mmmph," he says, because Ryan's sticking his long fingers in Brendon's mouth. Ryan raises an eyebrow at Brendon and Brendon raises one right back and it's then that Spencer really pushes his fingers in. It feels good and it kind of hurts and Brendon can't decide whether he wants to push away or he wants more. He breathes wetly around Ryan's fingers in his mouth, trying not to tense.

"Suck," Ryan says, and Brendon does.

\--

Thank god it's Spencer, because this shit _hurts_ and Brendon can feel everything in him stretching and pulling and god, he's so full.

"Shhh," Spencer murmurs, and rubs at the small of his back, and it's nice, it's weirdly comforting, even if it feels like Brendon is sort of being impaled.

"Ow," Brendon says, and mostly he's just thinking that Ryan's a sicker fuck than he realized if he gets off on this when Spencer moves and shifts, something, and oh, _oh_.

"That's good," Brendon manages to get out, "That's good, that, keep doing, yes--"

"I know," Spencer says. "I have done this before, thanks."

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, because it's all he can do to lean back into Spencer's slow, careful thrusts and it feels like his spine is melting.

"Wait," Ryan says,and shuffles forward so he's sitting up against the headboard, tucked in between Brendon and the wall. He presses his thumb into Brendon's lips, trying to open up his jaw, and Brendon shakes his head and grunts.

"No," Brendon says, because he's kind of distracted and he really will choke on Ryan's dick if he has to think about more than getting fucked right now.

"Can I come on your face?" Ryan says, fisting himself. He sounds curious. It shouldn't be hot.

"Yeah," Brendon says, and Ryan's even careful enough to keep it away from his eyes. It runs down Brendon's chin and down his neck and Brendon squeezes his eyes shut and moans. Ryan leans down and kisses him carefully and Spencer pushes in hard and comes. Brendon can feel Spencer's dick pulsing inside of him and god, he needs to come. He reaches a hand down to jerk himself off and Ryan frowns and says "No, hey," and knocks his hand away, pushing at Brendon's hip so that when Spencer pulls out and staggers over towards the trash to throw out the condom, Brendon ends up on his back. Ryan doesn't waste any time, just sucks him down, one hand wrapped around the base of Brendon's dick to steady him.

"You _are_ really good at that," Brendon says, once he's finished coming his brains out down Ryan's throat.

"I get no love," Spencer says, sadly, stretching out next to Brendon on the bed. His dick is soft and sticky and Brendon pats it consolingly. "I still like you," Brendon tells it, and Ryan coughs and laughs.

\--

So now, hey, Brendon's really not a virgin, but he can't brag about it to anyone because the only people he would really tell are Ryan and Spencer and he's pretty sure they already know.

"I'm not a virgin," Brendon says, self-satisfied, and kicks his feet up on the amp and crosses his arms behind his head.

"I know, I was there," Spencer says, and Brent gives him a weird look.

"He's kidding," Brendon says quickly.

"Oh, yeah," Spencer says, after a pause. "Totally kidding."

\--

There's a week or two afterwards where they don't have sex, and Brendon doesn't want to stress about it, because maybe they're just busy, but secretly he's a little freaked that it's all over and done and he has to go back to being best friends with his right hand. Brendon's not really looking forward to that. He was enjoying the 'getting laid' thing.

Ryan's weird when he invites Brendon over, though, and sits too far away from him on the couch.

"Hey," Brendon says, poking Ryan with his shoe. "Hey, come here, I want to hang out."

"We are hanging out," Ryan says, and Brendon wants to point out that by "hang out" he meant "have sex," in case that wasn't clear, but Ryan seems really engrossed in America's Next Top Model and Brendon doesn't want to push his luck.

Brendon leaves, eventually, when Ryan's dad comes home.

They don't talk about it.

\--

"Okay, what the fuck," Brendon says, after the third time it's been just him and Ryan and Spencer and they're still giving him a wider berth than the Titanic. "What did I do, seriously," Brendon says, because if he's not interesting anymore just because he's no longer a virgin that's kind of fucked up and also he's going to be really bummed.

Spencer opens his mouth and Ryan kicks him. Spencer shuts his mouth and Ryan says "Nothing."

"Bullshit," Brendon says. "Spencer, what were you going to say?"

"You didn't want Brent to know," Spencer says, and he's tossing the remote back and forth between his hands but his jaw looks a little tense.

"So?" Brendon says, because what does Brent have to do with this?

"He knows about us," Ryan says, and Brendon pauses and lets that sink in. "He knows you--" Brendon says, and Spencer shrugs.

"Oh," Brendon says. "But, you said it wasn't a thing."

"If we said it was a thing, you wouldn't have--" Spencer starts and Ryan shushes him again and gives Brendon a level look. "It's fine," Ryan says evenly. "It's okay. We knew you were just--whatever. Experimenting."

"But what if I wanted it to be a thing?" Brendon says, slowly. "Can we even _do_ that?"

Ryan looks at Spencer, and then back at Brendon. He licks his lips.

"Yeah, okay," Ryan says, and Brendon very decidedly does not fist-pump in victory. Instead he shifts a little closer, so his shoulder is touching Ryan's shoulder.

"Can I hold your hand?" Brendon asks, during the next commercial break, blushing furiously. He shouldn't be. His dick has been in Ryan's ass.

"In public?" Ryan asks, frowning.

"No, just. Here," Brendon says. "And maybe also that too. I don't know. Whatever you want."

Spencer stretches his leg across Ryan's lap and nudges at Brendon's knee with his sneaker, encouraging.

"Okay," Ryan says, carefully, and Brendon links their fingers together and if Ryan squeezes his hand during all the scary parts of the movie and especially when that girl gets locked in the elevator shaft and drowns, well.

Brendon's not telling.  



End file.
